


What’s so bad about an apple?

by dharma_club



Series: Bad Apples [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Regency, M/M, Misunderstandings, Polyamory, Romance, Seduction, Sexual Awekening, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22358095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharma_club/pseuds/dharma_club
Summary: For twenty two year old Mitch Marner life in the country is comfortable, if a little dull. Limited by society's (and his father's) expectations of how a proper young omega gentleman should carry himself, his future prospects seem to be regrettably limited. Until, that is, a chance encounter sends him on an unexpected journey of self-discovery.Lord Auston Matthews and William Nylander are the most curios alpha and omega pair Mitch has ever met. Followed by a trail of scandalous gossip, they force Mitch to question his own sheltered views on respectability, the power of temptation, and, well, love.
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews/William Nylander
Series: Bad Apples [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628896
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94





	1. Scotsbury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge huge thanks to the lovely people who helped me when writing this:  
> to Kit for being the most thorough and amazing beta,  
> to Brooks ([florabee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florabee)) for helping me feel excited and love these characters,  
> to Abby ([theshipstorulethemallwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipstorulethemallwrites)) for invaluable suggestions on how to keep this regency thing make sense, and  
> to [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/pseuds/eafay70) for helping me feel I was on the right path with this concenpt. 
> 
> For period reference (in case you are the same type of nerd I am) this is set in 1825. And aside for the huge addition of a/b/o, I pretty much tried to be true to history. Scotsbury is an imaginary place (named after the Scotiabank Arena of course), and is probably located somewhere in the midlands. 
> 
> Fell free to talk to me about the stupid details I made up but are not explicitly in this fic like when omega men get introduced into society (18), do they get to inherit (no), etc.

“I thought we might go visit Christopher this afternoon,” Mitch says conversationally over breakfast. 

His father looks up from his plate with a displeased sound. “What for, dear boy?”

Mitch refrains from sighing audiablly, however much he wants to. Ever since Chris got married a year ago Mitch’s life has become exceedingly dull. Never before had he thought of his experience in life as limiting, always grateful for the comfort and security of a well-off financial situation on his father’s side and a mother whose brother and cousins were regularly seen at court, although Mitch himself has never travelled more than twenty miles away from Scotsbury. 

He has everything an omega of his age and situation could ever want, except, perhaps, a mate. And while Mitch has never experienced any great passion or regard for any one alpha, he also has not tasted any bitter disappointments and at age two and twenty he is resigned to remain a bachelor.

After all, his older brother Christopher is the heir, and since he has been most favourably mated to the only daughter of an earl, he has sufficiently secured a title for the future Marner generations, to the great pleasure of Mitch’s father. 

As the spare omega Mitch could choose to simply depend on the funds his father allocates for him from now on and live quite a happy and comfortable life. Yet recently, and much to his own surprise, Mitch has found himself neither comfortable, nor happy. The last year has been the loneliest of his life and he has been restless to find something to possibly occupy his days. 

“I thought Lucy would enjoy the company of another omega.” Mitch smiles and looks at his mother for support. 

He does think Lucy would enjoy having another person to chat to at her estate, considering how downright stifling Chris can sometimes be, but it would be amiss to deny that Mitch also longs for the freedom of being under Chris’s roof rather than his father’s. At Chris’s Mitch can ride and play a couple rounds of cards to strip Chris of some insignificant money, at Chris’s Mitch may hope to finally have a conversation about a subject other than his father’s unfavourable opinion on Mitch’s future prospects. 

“That is extremely kind of you, Mitchell,” his mother says, beaming at him. Mitch feels a little guilty for not being honest, but needs must. “I wish I could accompany you, but I am expecting Mrs. Barrie later today.”

Mitch may have known that already, but he still makes sure to look disappointed, which seems to appease his father. It’s not very kind since his mother is probably the one to miss Chris the most of all of them. The house was more balanced when it had the four of them living there; his mother and Chris had this understanding of each other, probably a result of both of them being betas. They would sit side by side and intermittently laugh openly at the way Mitch and his father constantly fought over Mitch’s inability to play a single note or read a book for any length of time.

“Oh, well, if you must,” his father concedes and Mitch can feel his smile grow wider. “But if you insist on going alone, at least take the carriage.”

“I can walk, father.” Christopher and Lucy’s new house is much larger than the small estate the elder Mr. Marner owns but is only five miles away if Mitch crosses through the Whitehawk woods. 

“Why must you always look so knocked about is beyond me, Mitchell. It’s as if you insist on exposing yourself to the weather until you are unfit to be seen in polite society.” Mitch bites his cheek to stop himself from answering, he would very much like to avoid his father’s version of polite society if he could and his father certainly doesn’t need to know Mitch is much more likely to run the distance than leisurely walk it. 

“It’s unbecoming of your sex,” his father continues. “And moreso, your stature in life. At the very least take one of the horses.” 

“I believe I will.” Mitch bows his head slightly, trying to hide his excitement and most probably failing miserable at that, before he rises from the table to kiss his father on the cheek. “Thank you, father.”

Paul Marner humphs in mock annoyance, patting Mitch on the hand. “Well boy, you certainly refuse to behave like an omega ought, but at least you act like a gentleman.”

It’s not that it doesn’t sting, the way his father is so obviously displeased with his choice to stay a bachelor, but Mitch is certainly not going to be guilted into an unhappy match despite Mr. Marner’s attempts to weaken his younger son’s resolve. 

Mr. Marner has done very well with his choice of home in that regard. The small estate the Marners rent has four neighbouring estates within ten miles, three of which have alpha bachelors. Mitch, however, could not care less. He does not see the benefit of shacking up to either Mr. Anderson, Mr. Tavares or Admiral Bozak, or any other alpha that could come along. The prospect of keeping his own house has no appeal to him, and he certainly is not eager to experience having his body at the mercy of another man, however pleasurable it’s rumored to be. More than anything, Mitch wishes to be the master of his own fate, and while he is of legal age to do as he pleases, being a penniless omega is not a position he wishes to occupy and there’s his parents’ good name to think about. 

And after all there is still some freedom to be had, riding on his horse through the forested grounds of Mr. Anderson’s Whitehawk estate. 

It’s a pleasant day, and Mitch rides through the woods at ease, too conscious that hastiness will mean shortening his day and returning home earlier. He isn’t concerned with observing the woods around him, familiar as he is with these grounds. He has travelled them countless times as a young boy, climbed every rock there is to be found, and run alongside the stream, breathless and elated. 

Mitch is foolishly letting the nostalgia of the freedom of his youth distract him when a slight movement catches his eye, and he stills his horse. For a second, Mitch thinks the two men must be fighting, or even drunk, one body towering over the other, suspended in motion. But two seconds more of looking at them and a deep red blush of embarrassment rises in his cheeks. 

He can’t see much of the man standing, his face obstructed by tree branches, except he is bare down to his shirt and his naked ass is shamelessly facing the trail as the other man is taking him into his mouth. He can’t help but follow his movement, the way his hips move leisurely.

Mitch is not a child, and he has heard enough of the servant boys’ crude jokes to understand what is going on. He understands how pleasure works, if only in theory, he just never expected to be faced with it in such a fashion, in the bare light of day. 

The men shift, and Mitch can see the kneeling man’s face as he leans back, looking up, the other man’s fingers twisted in the strands of his light hair. 

He is handsome, for sure, but it’s eclipsed by how satisfied he looks, almost happy, to be kneeling in the middle of the woods, serving someone. Mitch feels a queer sort of unease in the pit of his stomach, which usually means he should consider taking the herbal omega remedy that is designed to stop unmated omegas from going into heat. 

It’s a different sort of sensation than when he takes himself in hand, a more primal one, but Mitch has never experienced it so sharply, and he feels almost lightheaded with how thick the air around him grows with his own scent. 

He doesn’t know what makes him turn away from the sight and continue riding, but he is grateful for it. He can feel himself react, despite himself, the thickness of the saddle beneath him most certainly making matters worse. He rides faster, eager to erase the images from his head, desperate to believe his heartbeat quickens and his skin flushes from the exertion and nothing else. By the time he reaches Christopher’s house he has decided to forget about the couple in the woods.

In all other respects, the visit begins and proceeds very well. His own spirits improved by change of place and subject, and by being removed five miles from his father, Mitch allows himself to bask in the superior affection and confidence of Lucy and Christopher. 

He never had the patience to learn to play and has no voice, and therefore is permitted to simply sit and fancy himself delighted as Lucy plays the piano and Christopher animatedly tells Mitch of his plans to rent a house in town once the baby is born. 

It is late when Mitch bids Lucy and Christopher goodbye, pausing to rest his hands gently on Lucy’s growing stomach, while Christopher beams with sheer stupidity at them both, his proud and excited beta scent filling the hall. 

“Be careful on your way home,” he says. “I wouldn’t want father to blame me for worrying.”

“Father will always worry unreasonably about me.” Mitch sighs. “Or at least until he has managed to mate me off to some unreasonable old alpha.” 

Mitch knows he is being wretched and unkind, and is fully prepared for Christopher to chide him, but Christopher simply looks at him for long minutes.

“You shall visit when we are in town, of course,” he finally says, hugging Mitch. “I believe society there will do you much good.” 

Mitch nods, curious and hopeful, hugging Christopher goodbye before getting on his horse, secretly wishing he did not have to leave. 

He perhaps is already rushing his horse a little too much when it happens, rushing to get home before it gets dark. But then the sharp noise whistles through the air and Mitch immediately feels like the world is turning around him, and he clings to the reigns, hoping he won’t be thrown off it. 

He tries to control the horse when it’s back on all four legs, locking his ankles and thighs, pulling at the reins as much as he can, but it doesn’t seem to be doing any good. It is galloping too fast, and Mitch is sure he is about to fall off every second. He doesn’t know what to do, breathless, and ears ringing, trying to pull the reins with all of his strength. 

He doesn’t even notice it when he shuts his eyes, his head spinning so violently, the panic rising in his throat -

“Damn it, pull the reins to the side!” he hears a voice shout, and immediately opens his eyes, trying to pull the reins to his left.

The man speeds his horse to match Mitch’s, trying to get a hold of the reins, and for some unexplainable reason that helps Mitch get a hold of himself, sharpen his mind and focus on the task in hand. 

“It won’t-” he tries shouting to the man. 

“Just relax!” the man commands and they work together, trying to find the perfect moment for Mitch to pass the reins and for other man to grab them from him. It’s a relief when they manage to connect and the man is able to pull the reins of Mitch’s horse with all his force, finally, miraculously, slowing it down to a halt. 

Mitch knows he is laughing and that his legs are shaking as he lets the other man help him down. He feels alive, and invigorated, as if there are currents running throughout his body, and when he looks up he finds the man is studying him with dark, serious eyes. He wants to throw himself at the man, delighted at the feat they just pulled off, but stops himself when the unmistakable scent of an alpha penetrates his foggy brain. The man smells like salted water and bergamot tea, deep and aromatic, and Mitch finds it both appealing and overwhelming at the same moment. 

“Are you frightened?” the alpha asks.

“No,” Mitch answers with a frown, though it comes out much more shaky than he would like. He averts his eyes, refusing to meet the alpha’s gaze. As obvious as the lie is, he does not need to be comforted. He chooses to focus on the other man instead, slightly in awe of the way his pantaloons hug his thighs. 

The man sighs in exasperation. “Your horse is not very well broken. You shouldn’t be riding it.”

Mitch looks up at him, eyes wide with surprise. He is certainly not accustomed to anyone speaking to him in such a way, least of all strangers. The alpha spoke to him with the air of an exasperated schoolteacher, as if scolding Mitch for some act of imprudence. Who does he take Mitch for, some sort of stupid farm boy?

The man’s coat is a deep velvet fabric, and his waistcoat is embroidered with some of the finest needlework Mitch has ever seen, his gen still hanging on his horse. It is clear his entitlement must be grounded in some fact, and it is only his obvious rank in society that has Mitch bite his lip, determined to remain civil. “I assure you I would not be having any issues had you not been shooting out of season.” 

“I believe we are still on Mr. Andersen’s grounds?” the alpha asks, tone teasing. Mitch can see him breathe in the air around them, watches as the other man registers the notes of Mitch’s anger and stubbornness. He fully expects to be scolded again, or even hear a comment on how inappropriate his remarks are, but instead the man simply shakes his head. “Come here, I only meant to say that it took a stronger hand than yours to stop the horse.”

Mitch is not sure anymore if he is angered or confused by the alpha, most likely a combination of both, making his head spin and his blood boil irrationally.

“Do you need help getting home?” the alpha asks and Mitch looks up at him in shock. 

“Pardon me?” he asks, but before the alpha can answer another man rides towards them. 

“It’s all fine, Will,” the alpha shouts to him.

The second man gallops to them on his horse, gracefully dismounting his horse with a slight bounce, making Mitch remember how horrid he must have looked in contrast just few minutes before, his legs barely holding him up. 

The man smiles brightly, looking at them both, and the first thing Mitch thinks, inexplicably, is that he is even more attractive in person. 

His hair is combed back, and his smile is smaller, less open, but his face is easy to recognize as one of the men in the woods Mitch saw that morning. He smells sweet, even sweeter than most omegas do, and like some familiar spice, but Mitch still can’t quite place it. At present he is mostly concerned with keeping his imagination and his scent in full control.

“Have you been introduced?” the blond asks his friend. 

“We are not in polite society, William,” the alpha scowls. “Unless you would like me to find a rabbit to introduce us, I’m not sure what I was meant to do.” 

“Must I always do everything, darling?” He sighs good naturedly and turns to look at Mitch. ”What is your name, kind sir?” 

“Mr. Mitchell Marner,” he answers without thinking, and the omega smiles wider.

“Mr. Marner, may I introduce you to the Viscount Matthews, a friend staying with Mr. Andersen?”

Mitch is not sure how to react to that. “You shall get us expelled from polite society.” 

The omega meets his eyes, radiating insolence, and much too pleased with himself. “Polite society is altogether rather dull, don’t you think?” He looks at the alpha, who is apparently an earl’s heir. “Auston, are you not going to introduce me to your new acquaintance?”

The alpha visibly tightens his jaw, which unfortunately it does nothing to make him look any less attractive, while Mitch tries to discreetly comb his fingers through his hair. “Very well,” Matthews sighs. “May I present to you my mate, Mr. William Nylander.”

“Lord Matthews, Mr. Nylander,” Mitch says, bowing his head to each of them, hoping he is at the very least, not completely laughable. 

“Mr. Marner.” Nylander bows his head back. 

He isn’t sure what is more shocking to him, the men’s ranks or their early dalliance in the woods. Mitch is certain Lord Matthews was the other man in the forest now, the familiarity between them unmistakeable, except they do not smell bonded. Mitch can imagine a couple might be legally mated without being bonded, and certainly the reverse, but to have a mated couple not smell bonded hours after being so intimate musn’t be possible, and so Mitch wonders if the overall excitement of the day hasn’t tired him out so much he cannot even pick out basic scents.”

“We were just idling catching up on some sport,” Nylander continues, glancing quickly at Matthews who seems to suddenly find great interest in making sure Mitch’s saddle is securely fastened to his horse. “Mr. Marner, are you local to this area?” 

“I am. My father’s estate is just south of these woods and my older brother lives five miles to the west.” 

“Oh!” Nylander looks surprised. “That is extremely close to one another. Should I congratulate you or commiserate in your misfortune?”

“William!” Matthews admonishes. 

But Mitch laughs, delighted with Nylander’s directness. “I have not decided yet myself. Though I will admit the short distance makes it easier to convince my father to allow me to go the distance alone.” He meets Nylander’s eyes and grins. “Despite the impropriety.” 

“I believe we are expected back at the house,” Matthews cuts them off, turning his head to look at the setting sun. “And surely Mr. Marner should not be riding alone after dark?”

“Splendid idea, darling,” Nylander says, his eyebrows raised in challenge. “You should head back to Mr. Andersen and I will accompany Mr. Marner back to the trail.”

Matthews looks as if he is about to disagree with that plan, but them his gaze slides quickly to Marner, and it shifts to curious again and he seems to let the argument go.

“Very well. Mr. Marner, I bid you farewell and better luck with your horses.”

Mitch bites his lower lip, afraid he might retort something inappropriate, and simply bows his head. 

“Well,” Nylander grins at him once Matthews is gone and they are walking side by side, leading both their horses to the trail. “Now that we are alone, prey tell me, how do I convince you visit me at Mr. Andersen’s?”

Mitch shakes his head. “I would not like to cross anyone, Mr. Nylander. Mr. Andersen is the best neighbor one can imagine, but I wouldn’t dream of visiting uninvited.” 

“I would invite you now myself,” Nylander admits. “But Mr. Andersen is Matty’s friend and not mine.” He leans in as if sharing a secret. “To be candid, I believe he thinks me quite a negative influence on Lord Matthews. I believe he once shouted and called me a rascal when I tested his patience.”

Mitch can barely imagine Frederik Andersen raising his tone, much less shouting, but perhaps he should do more of it because the thought of his large frame, menacing over Nylander in anger has Mitch reconsidering his lack of interest in the alpha.

“I have never seen Mr. Andersen be anything but a perfect picture of a calm and collected gentleman, Mr. Nylander,” Mitch muses. “But I do believe I would like to see you test his patience in person, and I readily believe he can be angered until his ears match the color of hair.” 

Nylander nods encouragingly, grinning as if he understands Mitch’s train of thought completely. “Oh, Mr. Marner, I believe I will like you very much. And you are very lucky to have me as an acquaintance.”

“I am?” Mitch blinks.

“You most certainly are. Come, let us agree. I will have Mr. Andersen invite your father and your mother - do you have any other unmated siblings?”

Mitch shakes his head, rueful. “No.” Nylander is different from any other omega Mitch has ever met, he is charming for sure, and evidently very aware of it, but he is direct and open instead of being coy, and that is extremely refreshing. Mitch finds himself very much fond of him already. He must have mistaken one sandy haired head for another, the excitement of being rescued by Matthews unnecessarily stirring the too-fresh excitement of that morning.

Nylander continues on. “Then your father, your mother, and yourself to dinner. Perhaps tomorrow?”

“I would like that very much,” Mitch admits. “But would your Lord Matthews approve? He did not seem to like me very much.”

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Marner,” Nylander says with a clever quirk to his lips. “Auston may seem a little abrupt on first acquaintance but he can be very charming if he cares to be. I assure you he is quite harmless if you know how to handle him.”

Mitch can’t help that the image of Matthews’ hips driving into Nylander’s mouth when he caught them comes to mind. Now the shock has worn off the small details are sharper, the muscles in Matthews’ backside, Nylander’s blatant pleasure in it, the way Matthews clenched his fingers in Nylander’s hair. Mitch can feel his neck go pink at the way his imagination freely recreates the image. 

Nylander probably thinks him a prude, blushing at such a small insignificant comment like that, but he’d rather be a prude than admit to observing them.

“If you say so. I believe I can already see the trail,” Mitch agrees hastily, eager to escape the conversation before his face is fully red. “Until tomorrow then, Mr. Nylander.”

“Until tomorrow,” Nylander agrees, bowing his head to Mitch before riding away.

  
  



	2. The Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mitch Marner and William Nylander being Sister Wives is my new favorite thing.
> 
> I need everyone to know the person Willy allegedly bonded with in his youth is Pasta, but the Czech Republic did not exist in the 1820s. And the history nerd in me could not make that big of a mistake.

The invitation does come, and surprisingly early at that, delivered to Mr. Marner at his study just an hour after breakfast.

Mitch does his best to look as underwhelmed as he usually feels when they are invited for dinner at Mr. Andersen’s, but perhaps he gives his excitement away when he spends a good forty minutes trying to pick the most appropriate waistcoat to accentuate his waist in hopes of being to equal Mr. Nylander’s graceful form, and then quite unpleasantly fusses over the tidiness of the knot in his cravat, determined to impress Lord Matthews and his ever speculative dark eyes.

“Mitchell, you know I despise of being late,” his father says when Mitch is finally ready.

“It is only three miles away, father!” Mitch is putting on his gloves as fast as he can, and he is nervous enough without being hastened, though he doesn’t know why he should be.

“Yes, but we must go through the vicarage and pick up Mr. Babcock.” his father says and Mitch looks up in alarm.

“Oh, father!” Mitch sighs in annoyance. Mr. Babcock, while being a fine enough vicar, Mitch supposes, also had the questionable honor of being Mitch’s tutor throughout the years. And while Mitch has always fancied himself a well-behaved and eager pupil, he perhaps was not the most patient or studious one. Most of all, even now, almost seven years after Mr. Babcock has given up on bettering Mitch’s mind, Mitch always feels like a child in his presence.

“You look very nice, Mitch!” his mother says, joining them. Every single hair and feather is expertly pinned in place, and Mitch wishes he had inherited an ounce of her grace.

“And you look beautiful, mother,” he says honestly before kissing her cheek.

His father is studying him with an eyebrow raised. “Looking to sway a certain gentleman tonight, Mitchell?”

“Don’t tease the boy, Paul,“ his mother chides, walking out the door. “A young omega has the great advantage of behaving like a dandy at any opportunity if he only chooses so.”

“I am not being a dandy,” Mitch scowls, setting himself opposite his parents in the carriage.

His mother looks on him fondly and Mitch feels like crossing his hands in annoyance as if he was a child, choosing to avoid her gaze and look out of the window instead.

It’s a relatively calm and pleasant ride until Mr. Babcock gets in the carriage.

“I believe the son of the Earl of Hereford will be in attendance tonight,” he says, after a short round of greetings.

“Oh.” Mr. Marner looks up in interest. “An earl?”

“Yes, Lord Matthews. A fine young man, though he has grown in America with his mother and her family before going to Oxford.”

“I am sure he is only better for it. Is he the earl’s oldest son?” Mr. Marner asks, and Mitch can feel his neck and cheeks burn hot in embarrassment, as if Mitch could ever be an equal match to an earl’s son, regardless of which son or which earl it was.

But Mr. Babcock takes the question in stride. “Yes, he is the earl’s only son. Though I believe the earl will now be eager to properly situate him since he has recently mated. And in Paris of all places.”

“Paris?” Mitch asks, unable to control his curiosity.

“Yes.” Babcock lowers his tone. “I do not tend to spread such idle gossip, but I very much think the earl’s son has made a highly improper match. It must have been a great shock to find his only son chose such a partner and furthermore, chose to be mated to him without his father’s approval, for surely he would not have granted it. But in these modern times,” he sighs, looking put upon. “I suppose good connections and money can make sin look forgivable when combined with a pretty face.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Mrs. Marner asks.

“His new mate, one Mr. William Nylander. Not only has he been living in Europe since his grand tour, but it was a scandal that drove him there. It was quite a while ago, I believe, almost six years ago.”

“Ah,” Mr. Marner mutters, shifting uncomfortably. “I believe I remember now. It was in the Times. I don’t think it’s an appropriate subject to discuss.”

“Surely if it can be printed in the Times it can be discussed?” Mitch asks, on the edge of his seat. He can’t believe there’s anything William could have done that would be all that terrible. Mr. Babcock studies Mitch with a severe and disappointed gaze and Mitch is once again reminded of the time he so poorly memorized the Latin tenses.

“It is widely believed he seduced and bonded himself to the nephew of the Prince of Liechtenstein, despite the alpha’s existing engagement,” Babcock continues, his voice hard and clear in the small space. The rumbling of the wheels on the road matches the loudness of Mitch’s heartbeat as he holds his breath, desperate for more details. “I recall hearing they were acquainted as boys or something of the sort, and even exchanged letters when the other boy was at Harrow. Nevertheless it was a shock when they set to run away. They were found shortly thereafter, luckily for the prince they were still unmated, and therefore could be separated without damaging the engagement, but the damage to the Nylanders’ reputation had already been done and the news was out there. I believe they sent the boy away to try and distance the family from the scandal after that.”

“Imagine such a thing.” Mrs. Marner looks at Mitch, her eyes sad. “Surely the boy would need to be very much in love to act in such a way. Don’t you think, Mitchell?”

Mr. Babcock shakes his head, looking directly at Mitch. “This boy, as you say, had five unmated siblings at the time, Mrs. Marner, with only one of his sisters out in society. It is one thing to so wholly throw his own future away, but to have no thought of his siblings, his parents? The family of the alpha he so selfishly enthralled? I believe that is not love, that is pure sin.”

Mitch looks down at the carriage floor, and thinks of Nylander’s open and friendly demeanor the day before. He can certainly believe William could cross what is considered appropriate and run away from any familial duties. But to imagine him being so selfish as to knowingly hurt his entire family, that didn’t seem right. He can’t imagine the carefree creature he met being punished and sent away, it is too cruel.

“Let us not concern ourselves with any of it,” Mr. Marner says finitely, looking kindly at Mitch. “Mr. Andersen’s guests must be our friends, at the very least for the night, and we shall not hold against them rumors from their youths. We are not ones to decide on matters of love or sin.”

Mrs. Marner smiles widely, patting his hand encouragingly. “Very well said, husband.”

Mr. Babcock huffs in resigned annoyance.

Mitch smiles faintly.

* * *

They arrive without incident and are quickly introduced to Lord Matthews and Mr. Nylander.

Mitchs bows his head to them when his father makes the introduction, and is relieved when all three of them behave as if this is their first time laying eyes on each other.

Mitch is eager to talk to Mr. Nylander, but he isn’t sure how to do so in polite society, afraid he’ll stumble over himself and embarrass himself and his parents in front of all their neighbours. So he stays away, mindlessly talking to his mother and another omega neighbour, Mr. Barrie, as he steals glances across the room.

Mitch is both disappointed and delighted to discover that Lord Matthews is even more impressive in Mr. Andersen’s hall than he was in the woods the day before. He is a tall man, with wide shoulders, but he carries his frame with confidence, his black velvet vest and matching tailcoat threaded to perfection.

Mr. Nylander is dressed more fashionably, his waistcoat looks like a rich, intricate thing, almost resembling a woman’s corset. The mere thought of it makes Mitch’s mind wander to how it will feel when Lord Matthews unbinds it that night, if he might draw it tighter, for just a moment, before untying the straps at the back of it. Mitch looks down sharply at the floor, praying he does not blush, and more importantly, his scent does not give him away.

When he glances up, at least somewhat in control of himself, Nylander is staring right back at him from across the room, a faint smile on his lips as he leans on Lord Matthews’ arm. He turns to smile at Mr. Tavares, saying something Mitch can’t make out from this far, and Mitch breathes in relief, unsure why he is so nervous all of a sudden.

Dinner is very much the same, Mitch hums and nods, trying to keep up with the conversation, but too often he misses the last sentence said, too focused on the way Mr. Nylander’s bare fingers elegantly wrap around his fork, or the way Lord Matthews’ lips curl around a wine glass.

He is so distracted that he does not notice the conversation has turned to him and he is meant to answer some thing or another.

“I only wish Mitchell had more opportunity here,” his mother is saying. “Sending him to a finishing school seemed so outdated and grim. My own experiences at one were so disappointing and frankly useless that I felt sending him away and separating him from his home would be unkind.”

“I am very grateful I was not sent away, mother,” Mitch adds quickly.

“But you have travelled since, at the very least to London or to Bath,” Matthews says, waiting for Mitch to confirm.

“I must admit I have not,” Mitch says to Matthews’ evident surprise. “As a matter of fact I have never gone more than twenty miles away from Scotsbury.”

“I’m afraid we are not very worldly, Lord Matthews,” his father adds hastily. “My wife’s cousin, Lady Bracknell often visits when her friend Princess Sophia is in no immediate need of her. You are of course aware -”

“Yes,” Lord Matthews cuts him off, smiling politely. “I will be happy to pass on your regards when we are in Kensington.”

Mr. Marner bows his head, and Mitch can see the tension building in his jaw.

Matthews continues. “I must admit I am surprised to hear that you do not allow your son the opportunity to widen his education. A young man of his standing must be anxious for some knowledge of the world before he is mated.”

Mitch looks down at his plate, avoiding Matthews’ gaze.

“Perhaps you see it appropriate to send a young omega gentleman unchaperoned out into the world, Lord Matthews,” Mitch’s father looks up at him, in clear disdain. “But I would not wish such impropriety upon my son.”

“I am sure Lord Matthews meant that a young omega gentleman such as Mr. Marner would only be bettered by a through education,” Mr. Andersen intervenes smoothly.

“Indeed,” Matthews nods, eyes shining with suppressed emotion.

“How about yourself, Mr. Nylander, what would you say should be the optimal education for a young omega?” Mr. Tavares asks and only then does Mitch notice how quiet Nylander has been throughout the conversation.

“Well,” the blond omega says, smiling almost meekly, his demeanour entirely different from the one Mitch saw yesterday. “I suppose it varies, and it is a decision parents take most gravely considering it affects the happiness of their child, I would suppose.”

He takes his glass, drawing a sip from it, evidently refusing to say anything else.

“Yes, quite,” Mr. Tavares coughs.

“I do wish Scotsbury had just a little bit more liveliness in it. More music. More fresh air,“ Tyson Barrie interjects and Mitch nods eagerly. “I don’t believe I have danced once this last summer.”

“I am sure we can do something about that,“ Mr Andersen promises and the subject is quickly changed.

Mitch still hasn’t gotten a chance to speak with Nylander when Mr. Tavares approaches him after dinner is done.

“It is good to see you, Mr. Marner. I hope you are well,” he says stiffly.

Mitch nods, distracted once more by Nylander leaning against his alpha’s side just a few feet away. “Yes, I am well. I believe you were in town, sir?”

“Indeed. I was -”

“Mr. Tavares,” Matthews says and both Tavares and Mitch turn to look at him and Nylander as they move closer. “Mr. Andersen was just telling me what a fine estate you have.”

Tavares bows his head in appreciation. “That is a complement of the highest order considering Mr. Andersen’s lands are the finest in the region.”

“Yes. I was wondering,” Matthews continues smoothly. “If it would be too much of an impropriety on my part to ask your permission to tour the grounds. You see, Mr. Andersen mentioned you have a small lake and my mate,” he motions at Nylander who smiles sweetly at Tavares as if ordered to do so on cue, “has such a great fondness for them.”

“I simply adore them,” Nylander beams, as if he has never been more delighted by a thought than when pondering Mr. Tavares’ rather unexciting, Mitch thinks, lake.

“Of course!” Mr. Tavares smiles. “I would be glad to show it to you myself.”

“Oh, that would be so kind of you!” Nylander exclaims and Mitch is can almost see the calculation behind his cheerfulness. “We could make an occasion of it. Invite Mr. Andersen and Mr. Barrie to join us?

“I am sure that can be organised. Perhaps,” Mr. Tavares turns to Mitch. “Mr. Marner would be so kind as to join us as well?”

Mitch nods before Tavares has finished saying the words. “Yes, gladly.”

Nylander turns to look at Mitch, a sparkle in his eye. “Mr. Marner, would you care to take a walk around the room with me?”

“Of course,” Mitch nods, eyes downcast and heart beating in excitement.

“Excuse me,” he says to Matthews and Tavares and lets Nylander wrap an arm around Mitch’s, drawing them closer together. Mitch feels oddly small next to him, although he must be just as tall.

They walk in silence, Mitch wondering what he should say, how to convince Nylander Mitch is worthy of his attention, perhaps even his friendship, despite Mitch’s schoolboy behavior when facing him and his mate and despite the elder Mr. Marner’s blunder.

“You seem to be deep in thought,” Nylander finally says and Mitch sighs.

“Yes. I-” he chuckles softly. “You seem to be very practiced at socializing.”

“You do not approve?” Nylander asks.

“That’s not it.” Mitch shakes his head. “You simply hold yourself very differently in company than -” he looks around to make sure they are far enough from the rest of the party not to be overheard. “Than you were yesterday.”

“It takes great practice,” Nylander frowns. “But I must learn. Earl Matthews wishes for Auston to take his place in parliament, you know.” He looks away into the distance.

“I have never met a politician,” Mitch says carefully. “But I am sure Lord Matthews would do very well in parliament.”

“Oh, I am sure he will,” Nylander breezes easily. “The real question is how will I fare as a politician’s mate. I will of course make do, if that will truly make Auston happy. But just to imagine it, could you ever think of anything so frightfully boring?”

His smile is wide and bright, familiar despite their short acquaintance. Mitch nods in sympathy, he definitely knows something about being, as Nylander put it, frightfully bored.

“I daresay a life in the country with nothing to do and no one but your parents for company is just as dull, if not more so than hosting lavish dinners for boring old men.”

Nylander stops and turns to look at Mitch. “Oh, Mr. Marner, are you truly so unhappy?”

Mitch shrugs, unable to lie. He doesn’t know how to call the attachment he feels for the other omega, but he knows it to be truer than any other friendship he ever had. Despite barely knowing him, despite the horrid things Mr. Babcock has said, Mitch wants his closeness.

“Mitchell, please. Or Mitch, since we are friends,” he bites his lip, smiling hopefully, “are we not?”

Nylander smiles back, so obviously contented Mitch almost feels it himself. “And you must call me William. To be completely frank, Mitch, I feel we are very much alike.”

“You do?” Mitch laughs. He has never met any person so wholly unlike himself as William Nylander, with his scandalous rumours and too direct conversation. But he also understands what William means to say, a kinship so strong Mitch can feel it down to his bones.

“Yes,” Nylander says simply, then raises a hand to brush a curl behind Mitch’s ear, familiar and easy as if it was the hundredth time he did it and not the first. “But do not think you have distracted me. Tell me truthfully, are you not happy?”

Mitch shakes his head, still smiling.

“I am content, William. And I am very grateful to my parents, I wouldn’t want you to think of me uncaring for their love and sacrifice. But I,” he shrugs, embarrassed. “I often wonder what else is there to explore beyond Scotsbury.”

William nods, looking satisfied with Mitch’s answer, and turns left into some hall, securely holding Mitch’s hand in his.

“What do you think of Auston?” he asks instead.

“I believe I don’t know Lord Matthews very well,” Mitch answers carefully. “Not nearly enough to have formed an opinion.”

“He is far too satisfied with himself, and very selfish,” William tells him decidedly, and Mitch laughs at that, surprised by how accurately William describes his mate, and how easily he shares that criticism with Mitch. “Oh, hush. I know I am plenty selfish as well. And I do not mean to say Auston is not an exceedingly pleasing mate.” Mitch refuses to think of anything but the most dreary ways one can please their mate, like keeping good finances, or making sure the cook has stocked their favorite bacon. “But one cannot be blind to the reality of the matter.”

“What do you mean?“ Mitch asks, and William stops again, drawing Mitch closer against a wall. There are almost no candles in that hallway, shadows and light flickering over William’s face, and Mitch thinks of how unfairly handsome he is.

“Auston is very ambitious, you see,” William starts carefully. “When we were mated I was quite worried because I thought he would lose his desire to win if he constantly felt he already had his prize.”

William holds Mitch’s hand in his, his thumb brushing carefully against Mitch’s skin. The corridor around them is dark and quiet. Mitch has never been so terrified of a person the way he is of William, has never wanted to be so careless.

“Mitch,” William asks, voice deep, almost too quiet to hear. “Do you think me very evil?”

“I-” Mitch tries, but his mouth is dry. He huffs a desperate breath, trying to gain some control over himself. “Of course not.”

William raises Mitch’s hand to his mouth, and Mitch thinks he is going to kiss the back of his hand, only he should’ve known William would never do anything as pedestrian as that.

Instead William draws Mitch’s thumb into his mouth, lips soft and wet as he slides them over Mitch’s skin. Mitch is completely entranced by the shape William’s mouth forms, suggestive and indecent, and it makes Mitch burn for more.

William’s forwardness is contagious, making Mitch want to be just as daring, push William further until Mitch knows for certain he has reached the limit and William will stop being so sweet for him.

He pushes his thumb down until it meets William’s tongue, and then pushes on it further. It’s just simple pressure, but it makes William moan around Mitch’s thumb and close his eyes, breathing in deeply. Mitch desperately wants to push William until he sees where it is the other omega breaks instead of bending, and only then pull back.

Mitch can smell William’s body reacting, sweet spices mingling with Mitch’s own herbal notes in the air around them. He’d feel guilty about it, but William is still holding Mitch’s hand, his lips sucking gentling on his thumb as Mitch tries to not react more than he already has.

“You are-” he doesn’t know what to say and he feels a laugh escape from deep in his chest.

“Egm,” a man coughs behind him and Mitch startles, looking back.

“Oh!” He exclaims, eyes wide and cheeks red.

Lord Matthews looks at him with faint amusement, still very much encompassed in shadows. “Do not stop on my account.”

William lets Mitch’s thumb slide out of his mouth with a loud, obscene popping sound. “Do not taunt us,” he warns Matthews lightly.

Mitch can’t stand to be there any longer, he feels helpless and exposed, the weights of both William’s and Matthews’ attention too much to bear when his body is filled with so much desire he must combust. He can feel himself go sleek with how much he needs a release and he knows he can’t be in the same room with them right now.

“Excuse me, I must -“ he tries to shoulder past Matthews, but the alpha stops him easily with a gentle touch on his elbow.

“Please, Mr. Marner,” Matthews says simply, and Mitch suddenly notices how he smells. Need and lust, sharp and twisting, answering Mitch’s own and anchoring him to the spot.

Matthews’ fingers are gentle when he cradles Mitch’s jaw. It is evident that he is trying to make the movement soothing, but it has the opposite effect on Mitch, the skin to skin contact electrifying and exciting.

“May I?” he asks and Mitch nods, unable to speak.

Matthews’ scent fills his senses before their lips meet, but it’s that second wave of sensation that’s the one to destroy Mitch. Matthews kisses like he is resolved to discover every single secret Mitch has ever had, like he must have Mitch in every possible way that very second. Mitch is drowning in him, desperate for more, mindlessly, and most likely gracelessly, clutching to the sleeve of Matthews’ tailcoat until he can no longer stand the intensity.

Mitch steps away, Matthews’ laboured breath filling the space, but his eyes are fixed above Mitch’s head, looking at something, someone-. When Mitch turns he can see William is staring straight into Mitch’s eyes, his gaze unflinching and full of deep longing and need, as if answering the helplessness Mitch feels he must radiate.

“William, I’m sorry- ” he lets the words stumble out, desperate to explain what must be impossible. He’s not sure why or what he’s apologizing for. “I swear. I -”

“Mitch,” William breathes out, his cheeks growing pink, and he bites his lower lip. Mitch’s own lips are still tingling from the pressure of Lord Matthews’ kiss. He knows all three of them can smell him, desire too-sharp and bottomless as his body is preparing itself to be taken.

“Not here,” Matthews cuts them both off. “Not like this.”

“I need air,” Mitch nods, “outside.”

“I’ll take you,” Matthews says quickly, his scent shifting to protective, which is not helping Mitch at all.

“No, I -” he raises his hand to push Matthews away, but stops himself mid-air. He doesn’t think the contact would help him gain the restraint he needs to walk away. “I need to be alone.”

He walks the halls until he finds a window, and even those short minutes of wandering help ground him. He opens the window and breathes the cold night air, feeling his muscles uncoil, willing his mind to clear as well.

He’s not quite sure what just happened, but he knows he wanted it, wanted them both. And that should be impossible. He feels like he could scream.

Mitch waits a few more minutes until he’s sure there is no remaining evidence of turmoil and then makes his way back to Mr. Andersen’s hall.

He can see William and Matthews already there, sitting alone on a bench and conversing in hushed tones, so he decidedly turns in the opposite direction, smiling as carelessly as he can and making his way to where his mother and Mr. Barrie are standing admiring a framed picture of Mr. Andersen.

He refuses to give what happened another thought for now, there will be plenty of time for that later, and the rest of the evening passes with no further incident.

Mr. Babcock chooses to ride home with the Barries and their return back home is quite different, Mitch’s eyes glued to the carriage window and a comfortable silence spread between himself and his mother, Mr. Marner fast asleep and snoring faintly.

“Mr. Andersen’s guests are quite different from what was advertised, aren’t they, Mitch?” his mother asks, her tone light. “I believe you seemed fond to them.”

“Yes,” Mitch agrees, smiling despite his best attempts to look demure. “I do like them very much.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> We love feedback in this house. Please let me know what you think. :)


End file.
